Author's Notes: So...WHY DID NO ONE POINT OUT I MISSPELT ECSTASY?! I spelled it as Extasy, the dang drug! XDD Way to kill the mood, right? Yesh! I swear I never see a document error until AFTER the chapter is posted, which is why I go back to edit buuuut I missed that *facepalm*. Anywho~ sorry about the wait! As I've stated, I am intentionally spreading out the updates for the story, but I did get sidetracked in this particular chapter's case. I've also been planning a trip to London and LoB has been on the back burner. I cannot thank you all enough for your support. The last chapter was a tough one to put to paper. Darker episodes are difficult to flesh out (for obvious reasons) and I appreciate you all for hanging in and suffering through with me for the sake of plot : )! There is still much to do with this story, and I love all the guessing! I promise all is not needlessly convoluted for nothing XD! As I mention frequently, I have to 'soul search' in order to imagine how characters react...Bum bum buuuum!

Love or Blood

Chapter Seventy-three: The Green Road

XXXX

Lucien glared at the back of Abigale Lynn's head. His stomach, that had been wrenching for some time now, again gnarled and twisted. His teeth gritted, clenching to the point that his jaw and neck ached from strain alone. The hand the assassin had placed over Abigale Lynn's belly pressed harder as he steadily absorbed her desire. Her words, though not intended as a taunt, jeered in his mind.

"I want to go back to Skingrad."

A terrible challenge, he thought, eyes narrowing and gaze burning holes into the skull of the girl he held. The fathomless longing Abigale Lynn held for the undead Count of Skingrad again was manifest, and it burned the assassin.

His heart began to race, sharply striking against his breast. He felt the blood pull to his extremities as his body began to prepare for what it perceived as an approaching confrontation. The mere mental image of Castle Skingrad heated Lucien to the point of literal perspiration. He wanted to fight. He wanted to eliminate his competition. The feeling strangled him, it was far too strong, and like a newly forged blade, he needed to be quenched. He needed to resolve this obstacle.

Somehow, with a level amount of difficulty, Lucien kept himself still and quiet. After a night of emotional projection, he felt depleted and believed more displays were a personal weakness. Instead, he only stroked the delicate skin of his woman as he considered the most beneficial course of action to pursue, all the while subduing his rage. For the moment.

Lucien Lachance knew better than to outright forbid Abigale Lynn from leaving him to reunite with the vampire. No doubt she would view such an action as a cruel provocation. And, in truth, Lucien was still vastly mortified by his own behavior, and could not bring himself to utter a command. He was not surprised by his actions, of course. To the assassin, all that was said and done gave him great cause to act the way he had. Everything he did, though a touch extreme, was just. After all, she dishonored the Night Mother, the Dread Father, his Family...himself...

However, the execution of discipline was sloppy, his reasoning had been tempered with pure emotional turmoil, that of which resulted in nothing more than a mess. She required correction, of course, but his punishment towards the girl warped by his own unyielding affection for her. He wanted to exude both passion and hate. It misguided him and caused his actions to be more driven by lust and an abnormal craving for her acceptance. His professions meant little when spoken with bloodied lips, and his touch could not soothe while being so cold and stained with red...No. Not when it came to Abigale Lynn.

He was ashamed, of course. He had failed to shield Abigale Lynn. From the truth and his own cruelty, he felt ill-suited for her protection. Nevertheless, the more prevalent matter for the Dark Brotherhood Speaker now faced had little to do with their evenings harshness. The true meat of their problem - or where Lucien Lachance believed all stemmed - was that his Abigale Lynn still longed for another man. Apparently, his cruelty and the murder of her parents had little to do with those feelings; they simply fanned the flames of her rebellion and lust for a different male.

It seemed no matter what occurred, good or ill, another remained a constant in her very soul. This not only offended but affronted the assassin. He felt it was time to rid the ambiguity veiled over their falling as a couple. It was not his murder, as Abigale Lynn claimed. That did not help with wooing, no, but it was not the true root of the problem as he originally resigned himself to believe.

The Dark Brotherhood Speaker had done all that he could to expunge the man in question from Abigale Lynn's soul. Yet, he remained there, much like a parasite; worsening all situations and making it impossible for the assassin to make a loving impression upon the girl. Her heart was still too full. Lucien could be loving. He could. But only if given the proper chance - something he was denied due to another's perpetual unlife...

Lucien felt it was time to remove this constant obstacle and even the odds.

He would attempt a more peaceful solution first, but Lucien did not doubt Abigale Lynn's rejection. Quite the contrary, he planned on it. However, with some time and extreme self-control, he would win once more.

Pouting, yet feeling remarkably better now that he had assessed the situation proper, the assassin stroked Abigale Lynn's belly once more. She had rejected him, but he would set all to rights now. He would win and secure her heart for himself.

xxxx

Over the course of a few long days, following all violence and bloodshed, the assassin and I remained in our rented room. Although unwanted, Lucien asked for us to remain there quietly for a time. After murdering a guard the city watch went on alert. Anyone entering or exiting the city was heavily monitored. The assassin wanted for all the commotion to 'die down' before we took our leave. It was likely we could have slipped by as the guard inspected a trader's goods, but Lucien did not want to take the chance. So, in the little, awful space, we remained.

We had not spoken more than the required amount one must to their traveling companion. It was odd. However, Lucien exuded remarkable tenderness. Perhaps more so now than ever before. It was positively unexpected. I was certain that the assassin would hate me, distance himself, or boot me as quickly as possible. I never dreamt he would still tend to me the way he did. All gentle touches, tones, and caresses. I supposed he did it solely in attempts to gain my favor. It did not seem unreasonable to assume, being that I often caught him gazing at me so longingly that I too felt his hurt over my rejection.

It was foolish to feel guilty after all went to pot, but I did - most certainly. Regardless, the simple act of verbally stating the severed ties of my emotional attachment to Lucien was a monumental feat for me. I felt as though I had both lost and gained something substantial in doing so. Acknowledging that helped motivate me and kept me calm. I felt strong in a strange way. Although I was still terribly afraid of the assassin and all he could do, and impossibly angry deeper within myself, I knew I now held a modicum of control over my life's situation. No longer did I cower so. I was quiet and I thought of many things. Mostly, I thought of Lucien and what he was truly thinking.

The assassin continued to treat me with odd gentleness, and despite being as grateful as I was for it all...I could not help but be disturbed as well. I did not want him to touch me. I tried to brush it aside. I wanted to think that there existed a part of Lucien that simply accepted this 'defeat'. I hoped dearly that he would take the rejection as it was. However, all that had transpired days before left me deeply questioning Lucien's understanding.

I found the mental grasp he held over his actions lax. He killed a man who got in his way of obtaining me after I had run off, after all. There was no grace within Lachance - at least, not in that regard. So I did not think it likely that the man suddenly decided to do away with his inclinations and take the rejection well...No. I knew that was impossible. But the assassin had yet to show his true feelings or any natural rebellious nature. The only indication of displeasure happened to be his placid expression. Lucien always smiled. Now, he did not smile anymore. Not even falsely.

Trying to be optimistic, I labeled his actions as personal growth and set them aside in my mind.

I wept for all he had killed. My family, the loved ones of others, the guard, the Argonian, and the baker...I wept. For many hours I cried, feeling repulsive when grasping my actions. I had pardoned Lucien for all his atrocities. In a way, I pardoned him still. I did not condone, never would I, but realizing how terrible it was for me to attempt to overlook his actions stung like a physical pain. I knew without a doubt that I was not a good person. A good person would have put themselves in danger in an attempt to bring Lucien to justice. I would not do that. Out of selfishness, fear, or pity, I did not know, but I would not try to have the assassin arrested. Again, I was not a good person either.

However, with all that transpired, I found myself stronger. I was not so cowardly to allow all to continue around me. No, I did not want any part of Lucien's bloodshed. We were done, and until I reunited with the Count, I made sure to stifle my anger towards the assassin. Lucien was not a man I wanted to cross again. Until we were to leave, I remained as docile as I could.

xxxx

After several dismal days locked away in the terrible room of Bravil, doing nothing but dodging the assassin's looks and speaking tersely, Lucien decided the time had come to make our leave. Presently, we rode silently along the Green Road. I had long turned my gaze to the saplings off of our path. I mutely absorbed the dense thickets and shrubs, all smelling so fresh and earthy, a vast improvement in contrast to our prior location. I found myself so grateful for such a minute thing. The lingering bogs that plagued Bravil were now long gone, despite us only putting several hours worth of distance between us and the city.

The assassin and I had not spoken to one another since mounting Shadowmere at the stables. The mare had seemed reluctant to depart with the city and now appeared a touch defiant to her rider, which was much unlike her usual self. I had found the exchange odd, all her whickering, Lucien's hissed words, seeing the white of the black mare's eyes...odder still that I did not care in the slightest. I was ready to part even if that meant on foot. Her eventual willingness was a perk.

Regardless, experience told me not to let my guard down again. I watched our path and the surrounding area diligently. We were heading north, back to Skingrad as I had asked, but I knew my 'asking' meant little. One rouge turn and I would give the assassin a kiss...

A kiss of paralysis, as the Lover gifted me.

Having gone over all the terrible events from three nights ago, and dissecting each awful occurrence, it became clear to me why I had not used my gift, despite it lingering in the back of my mind. The simple conclusion was Lucien. Even with all he did and all my loathing, I could not bring myself to compromise the assassin. In the room of the inn, with a dagger to his neck, the thought of my gift eluded me. My mind was too fogged with terror and anger, the pure desire to flee. It was after the guard's death did the thought flicker. A small peck on the cheek and I could have alerted all of Bravil to Lucien Lachance and been the assassin's undoing.

However, I was afraid, perpetually. Should I somehow have failed to alert the citizens properly, the repercussions would have been great. I would no doubt be in the mud with the guard as soon as feeling returned to Lucien. But there was more to this, as well. This was not the whole truth. The whole truth was my reluctance. In my fear, in my hatred, I still could not bring myself to hurt the assassin more than I had done. The guard would have killed him. Or if he had been jailed, perhaps the Dark Brotherhood would have. I knew not the particular complexities, but I knew no matter what, Lucien would suffer in the end. I feared it still. I would keep him from it for as long as I was able. I would treat him civilly, even while knowing he was undeserving.

As we rode, I held him. It was a natural thing to do, and while we were still kept at the inn, we shared a bed. These 'natural' impulses no longer felt so natural. The loose fabric of his olive tunic was strange, the leather doublet foreign, like a stranger. I found myself no longer curious or comforted by his warmth and breathing. There was a monster just beneath his skin, hiding beneath handsome flesh and teasing smiles. I could no longer be blinded by his facade, no matter how charming a thought.

The assassin and I were still several hours away from nearing the bridge crossings over White Rose River when I noted a sudden shift in temperament. Shadowmere's usual brisk trot slowed considerably, causing Lucien to let out a frustrated puff of air. Not long after, the black mare stopped moving altogether. She came to an abrupt halt, which thusly caused the assassin to react. He squeezed her with his legs, his heel along her, hips rolling forward in attempts to direct. Shadowmere did not budge, her only response a shake of her head and agitated whicker.

Lucien stilled, sighing again irritably before letting his head fall back some. "Shadowmere...not now. Lead on." The mare only stomped and grunted in response, the sudden movement causing me to gulp and the assassin to growl. "By Sithis, I am in no mood for this. Now, move." Lucien hissed, violently jerking the reigns. Shadowmere vocalized her objection, the sound loud and deep, so much so that it ran a chill down my spine. Something akin to a tug of war began between the assassin and his mount, however, all ended swiftly as Shadowmere reared herself up on her hind legs.

I gripped Lucien and yelped, he held the reins firmly in one hand while managing to clutch my arm in the other. The sensation of falling overtook me and I buried my face into the assassin's back until I felt and heard the loud 'clomp' of hoofs meeting the road once more.

Lucien spoke, reprimanding the beast, but I did not absorb his words. My body trembled, I perspired, the act had been so random and unlike the mare's usual behavior. It shook me, it shook me to my core.

"G-get me down," I mumbled to perhaps myself as I extricated my limbs from Lucien's. I swung my leg over Shadowmere with little difficulty, accidentally knocking the assassin some in the process as I dismounted. Lucien followed suit, near springing from the mare to assist me. No sooner had my feet touched the ground did I push the assassin's hands off myself. I swallowed, sputtered, and wrapped my arms around my torso as I hesitantly put some distance between myself and the suddenly irate horse.

I had believed the black mare to be relatively tame. She obeyed her Master, I thought. Not so, it would seem, and this troubled me. Shadowmere had never acted so randomly before. I had to wonder the reason. Worse still, I did not put it by Lucien to somehow communicate his displeasure of me to the horse. She seemed far too orderly to act on whatever it was that drove her - being that it may have been her own whim resist Lucien. No, I did not think she would disobey him. She followed orders...

A hand fell on my shoulder as Lucien touched me gently, joining my side by the roadside. "Are you alright?" He asked, sounding so genuine and a touch shaken himself. I inwardly scoffed and thought on his acting. I could believe nothing. Not him, nor my musings. All remained a mystery and it frustrated me greatly.

Again, I brushed his hand away and turned to fix him with a glare, my body still all trembles from the shock. "Can you not bear to part with me unless it be by death? Was the plan to have your horse kill me so that you would not have to trouble yourself? How unlike you to not wish to dirty your hands!" The assassin's facade did not falter and he ignored my words with ease. Lucien proceeded to prod and touch me, something that he had not done since our terrible night in Bravil. I flinched and attempted to pull away, angry and disturbed by the still very fresh memories of violence.

However, to my dismay, the assassin persisted. "Abigale, you must tell me if you hurt anywhere. Was the movent too violent? Did you twist or pull anything?"

I had to step back and out of his grasp, the feeling of his hands was haunting; they eliciting far too many thoughts, and his words were infuriating. "When was that ever an issue for you? Pulling or twisting me in a violent manner?"

The assassin shook his head but again stepped closer to me along the side of the road. "You are rightly upset - fine. However, I cannot overlook the possibility of your physical state being in peril. Please, humor me at least." His constant advancement made my hairs stand on end. It was so very strange how conflicted my mind and body felt towards Lucien. I had found so much comfort in his touch, so much familiarity...I was so very confused now when all mingled with my current emotions.

"No. And I would be better if you would not touch me at all." I quipped, not daring to turn my back on Lachance but desperately wanting to walk away from the assassin. His face, his clothes, his entire self was all too normal. I hated it. I wanted to leave him. All had me feeling terribly and I could not get away quick enough. The Count, whatever his desires and motives, I was ready for. This, Lucien... the awful truth made me want to cry. The conflicting ideas and sensations were tormenting. I did not love the assassin, but the idea of life with him had been acceptable. I resigned myself to him. Now, once more, my future was unknown and frighteningly cold. "I-I want to leave. Being that your horse can no longer tolerate the journey, I shall go on foot. Please, give me the cure. You need not trouble yourself with it any longer."

Lucien scoffed, turning his attention to Shadowmere for a moment before bringing it back to me, the glare weighty. "Do not be so ridiculous. You and I both know the perils of the woods and road."

I straightened and matched his look, locking away my sorrow for as long as I could stand. "Indeed we do. I am staring at one." Lucien chewed the inside of his cheek before stepping forward. The sound of the gravel shifting beneath his boots had my body on edge. It was odd, how now after so much awfulness, I could not stand the assassin. For nearly three days I shared his space in Bravil. Along the road, toe-to-toe, I felt on the verge of bolting. Perhaps it was because we were no longer enclosed, perhaps it was due to the closeness of Skingrad...

Whatever the reason, I was done. I had no more use for Lucien Lachance.

"I am attempting to be amenable. The least you can do is show the same courtesy."

"I owe you no such thing." I snapped, glaring up at the man who looked much like he had when I had struck him several nights prior. I was unsure what exactly prompted my words, but I was not yet done. "I am done pretending. I want to be away from you. Give me the cure so that I may go, Lucien. That is the true courtesy that should be done here."

"Well, now, aren't you reaching. I am not known for such great kindnesses." The assassin countered bitterly. "I have a task to complete, Abigale, and you need not worry about the endless 'possible' impediments. I shall be thorough... But I am ever meticulous as well." Lucien calmed then, considerably. As was his custom, he smoothed away his irritation as though it was never manifest. His hands went to my own, the touch gentle but grasp firm as I made a lighthearted attempt at pulling away. Shamefully, I was far too perplexed by the sudden change to outright push him away once more. "Perhaps we should speak now again before we draw any closer to our destination. There is much to discuss."

Swallowing hard and feeling unsure, I let my gaze flitter over his features, trying to assess his desires. "I...We have nothing left to talk about. There isn't anything more to say."

"Oh, but I think there is, Abigale." The assassin pulled me closer, I leaned away on instinct and kept my glare as firm as his hold. There were only so many things Lucien Lachance wanted from me, this I knew. Still, I found myself leery, for more than the obvious reasons, as I was still unable to discern his current motives. One could almost call his current tone aloof, but I knew better. "I understand you are...overwhelmed, but the time for silence is over. You have had several days to consider and reflect on all our doings. Now, to be both harsh and frank, the time for your uninterrupted contemplation is over. I believe you to be ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" I attempted to demand, my voice cracking the smallest bit. Lucien's gaze held me, the feel of his stare was pleading while all else appeared impassive. Of course, I was frightened. If I had learned anything from my time with the Dark Brotherhood Speaker, it was that he was astonishingly deceptive and dangerous. Yet, the look was genuine, and that was all I could identify. There was always something deeper hidden within the assassin. Nothing was as it seemed on the surface. I knew it was best to brace myself.

"The truth. The true outcome of your life should you wish to be rid of me. The harsh reality of your decisions. You must be prepared for the consequences, my dear. Although, they need not be." I sighed, feeling astonishingly relieved that the assassin was only hoping to bring me back into his sway by frightening me with talk. But the little puff of air that escaped my lips caused the assassin's look to harden, his grip on my fingers tightening. "Heed me, Abigale. Heed me. Despite what you may think, I am speaking for your benefit, not for mine. Should you return to that dead man, you will die. You will die, my beloved. You know this."

"Lucien, stop. This is lowly, even for you. Enough -"

"Abigale, listen to me." The assassin insisted, again thwarting my attempts to pull away from him. "Think of me however you wish. Hate me, should you so chose. But I do not, could not, hate you...I harbor only total affection for you. It is lunacy, I know, but it is my great love for you that is forcing my hand now. I cannot make you stay with me, as much as I long to do so. I cannot hold you against your will. If you feel in your heart that I am unworthy, I understand. But I can still offer you an alternative to him. I can give you Sanctuary. I can give you a home. You can have all you desire. I need not insert myself into your life as you imagine...I only want what is best for you and I am ready to lose you to another should it bring you happiness. I will house you, clothe you, feed and tend to you and your needs. I won't infringe, I swear it. But please, consider me now, Abigale. Consider me now before it is too late. Choose me over your demise."

Stubbornly, I turned my head from him, feeling both disgusted and oddly embarrassed. I was ashamed for Lucien and myself. He was desperate and I could feel it in his touch. I could not fully articulate my anger, shame, and passion, so I could only stare off into the woods. "No."

One of his hands released my own to cup my cheek, pulling my attention back to his. The assassin wetted his lips, black eyes searching. "Abigale, see reason. I cannot bear knowing that you are stalking off to die! I want your happiness...I cannot keep you against your wishes but I desire it above all else now. Why do you want to run to your grave? He will kill you. You will suffer. You will be so lonely. He is mad, madder than I! Can't you not -"

"I know the risk!" I near shouted, trying to counter his powerful plea in my heart. My eyes welled, and I wiped them with my free fingers. I felt sheepish for crying out, however, the more prominent feeling was the great betrayal by my own unsteady knees. His words were true, his offer inviting, his warmth...His hand was hot on my own, growing slick from perspiration as his stare, so, so black, nearly swallowed me whole. I did my best to blink away the water from my eyes, to clear my vision and my mind. I did not love the assassin, he had betrayed me, but perhaps I could have loved him. But not now. I loved the Count and was ready to face death to be with him, even if only for a moment. Lucien would not understand it, and truthfully, I did not either. But it was what I felt. A need stronger than that for air. "I could never be with you now. Never. Especially not after all you...after all we have done...I cannot."

The assassin stared, his expression grim. We lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, our hands still joined, our gazes locked. Whatever this was, it was painful. My mind numbly labeled the feeling as rejection. Not only was I refusing Lucien Lachance, I was also refusing a chance at life. I was denying all and it bitterly hurt.

Eventually, I bowed my head to stare at the road, unable to endure the intensity of the assassin's look. However, I could still feel the Speaker's eyes upon me. Quietly searching, still seeking something to latch onto in attempts to return me to his logic and reason. I gave him nothing. I had nothing to give.

The assassin suddenly wrenched his hand from my own, the movement so swift I could not help but startle. I watched on, my attention quickly recaptured by the abruptness of all. Lucien then swore, fiddling with his fingers for a moment before retaking my hand. His grip was painfully tight on my wrist; an acute discomfort panged within my bones before it dispersed, lessening only once the assassin lessened his grasp. Moments after, Lucien surprised me further, as he dropped to a knee alongside of the road.

His eyes again met mine, and I swallowed thickly at the look. He unnerved me, even bent at the knee on the ground as he was, and this sudden position caused me to be greatly attentive. I was perplexed and ill at ease. Lucien then exhaled deeply through his nostrils, the sound heavy, almost like that of an angry bull, before he spoke, voice low and thick. "Abigale, marry me." I stared and stared...and stared some more, feeling utterly confounded as I attempted to digest the assassin's words. Unfortunately, I was having great difficulties processing his request, and could only stand, baffled beyond reason. The Speaker eventually grunted, his face twitching as he pulled me closer. "Abigale, marry me."

"Wha...?...I...You...?" I eventually managed to mumble, trying to step away, but still so in shock that my movements lacked true conviction. I only faltered, my hand beginning to shake within Lucien's own as I continued to stammer incoherently. I was speechless, but the shock had me worked right out of my natural silence. Instead, I babbled, and none of my words made any sense. This frustrated me and the assassin further. I was angry that I could not process or declare my feelings. Lucien was irritated that I had denied him a proper answer. Yet, it was his expectant stare that finally snapped me out of my present quandary and back into a 'better' state of mind. "W-what on Nirn are you saying? Thinking? You know the answer to this."

To my further surprise, Lucien shushed me before kissing my trembling digits and inching nearer. "Before you so swiftly reject me, listen closely...I am here before you, bearing only myself, my whole self, and nothing more. You know everything about me now, Abigale. I no longer wish to hide from you in any manner. I ask you that you accept me in all of my faults, yet I am no fool, I fully understand this is a tremendous request I pose to you. It is an undertaking, but it is not without benefits to yourself." The Speaker's stare remained steady and he spoke without the slightest waver in his voice. I, however, was still in shock beyond reason and rendered silent. "We fit, you and I. There is no denying this. You are hurting now, I know, but I will live to heal the wounds of your soul. I will not rest until you have happiness and completion, for you have brought that to me, Abigale. You have restored a part of me that I did not know needed repair. You have filled a void that I did not know existed."

The assassin stopped, and looked down and brought his free hand to my attention. Nestled in his palm was the gleaming black band he always wore, the very ring he left me with weeks ago for comfort. The sight of it caused my mouth to go dry. I could only stand and remain in utter silence as he continued. "I was ignorant of many things, Abigale, but I am no longer so unaware...Accept me. Love me. Be mine and allow me to cherish you for the rest of our days. There will be good and there will be bad, but we will be together through it all, and nothing will matter more to me than that. We can have a life together. You need not live in darkness. I want you by my side, Abigale. We are bonded, we are joined...let us solidify that further. Marry me."

I swallowed, not knowing what to do as the assassin looked up at me, patiently awaiting...something. I wondered if he honestly hoped for my approval and how positively mad the man had to truly be to attempt achieving such a thing. Yet, as I searched his eyes, I too felt unsure and mad, for I understood the assassin's reasoning. He was correct, something about 'us' felt right, even after all the wrongs. I was a horrible person for being so contemplative, but I was. His offer, his words, were sweet. I was weak for them...but as Lucien dared try and slip his black band onto my finger, my rational mind reawoke.

This man was a murderer. He killed my parents and countless others. This would not change. He promised my life to not be in darkness, but not the lives of others. Many would suffer, whether or not I accepted this man, and that was the greatest tragedy about Lucien Lachance. Should I somehow find it within myself to forgive him for what he did to my family - perhaps I could fall the blame to my parents alone and call Lucien the tool - I could not go on knowing how he slaughtered all for enjoyment. He killed for 'glory', profit, and personal satisfaction, mainly personal satisfaction.

Would he make good on his promises to love and protect me? Yes, I did not doubt him, but I would not love him, and I would hate myself for being with the man of murder. This was not something that could be overlooked or worn away with time. Lucien Lachance would not stop his bloody passions until the end of his life. It was awful and I knew better than to hope he would someday stop murder for me. No one could stop him and only a great fool would think it possible.

Moreover, my heart could not be obtained by him, as it belonged to another. I was done with lies and false promises. No longer would I lead the assassin, as I had no intentions for 'us' in any manner. Still, I knew better than to be outrightly nasty with my rejection. Lucien Lachance was a dangerous man, and I was keenly aware of our solitude along the quiet road and the forest at my back. It would take little effort for him to subdue and end me, and my refusal could very well push him to that point. I needed to get back to Skingrad, I needed to live to see the Count.

I curled my fingers in the assassin's palm, halting the progression of Lucien's ring. I could visibly note the difference in Lucien as soon as my hand turned into a delicate fist. He fought the curling of his upper lip, muscles twitching before he brought his gaze back to mine and away from our joined hands. I sighed then, feeling...so very small and tired. "We cannot. I am sorry."

For a moment, Lucien simply watched me. Observed. I knew not else what to say and so I remained silent. Then, to my astoundment, the assassin nodded and stood, letting my hands slip from his. He looked down at me, his eyes sweeping over my features before he brought his knuckles to my cheek and a soft and offputting caress. "I did not want to burden you further, but you leave me no choice." He said in a murmur, causing me to swallow thickly at the strange gentleness he exuded. I shied away from his touch but did not openly protest against it. I only listened, my attention effectively captured by Lachance once more. "Oh, my Abigale...you carry my child."

In a sickening instant, I felt my blood begin to boil. My breath labored and eyes narrowed from the surge of hatred that consumed me. Lucien Lachance was a liar. He now wished to hold against me something awful in an attempt to secure my affection once more. Stupidly, I never fathomed him trying such a low blow to myself. It was crushing to know how twisted the assassin's methods were. I thought him above such things...again, I was profoundly stupid for raising him in any manner. "You are revoltingly desperate." I snapped, snatching his hand from my cheek and stepping away. "I will not be so easily deceived this time. I am sick of you and your lies, Lucien! You cannot crush me any more than you already have. Why do you want to break me so? Was all of this not enough? You could not help bringing all my faults to light?"

I stormed by him and to Shadowmere. She made an unpleasant sound at my approach but I ignored her with minimal difficulty. She made a greater fuss once I reached for the satchel that contained the cure, this also prompting the assassin to venture to my side as well. "Abigale -"

"No!" I cried, turning to point incredulously at the madman, feeling impossibly insane myself. My mind was everywhere and my heart felt on the point of bursting from my chest. "Stop it! Stop trying to weasel your way into my heart! Stop trying to manipulate my thoughts! I will be tricked by you no longer! I am going to Skingrad now, with or without you. Goodbye!"

The assassin then closed the gap between us, grabbing my wrist from the air. He brought himself impossibly close, bearing down upon me, his shadow enveloping my entire form as he stood with a scowl. "Think carefully now, my dear. Are you quite certain that this is the path you wish to pursue? You wish to leave me for another? Answer me now." I glared back at him with all the hate I could muster before forcing a nod, vaguely entertaining the idea that the simple action could very well be my last. Astonishingly, no further violence followed. Lucien released my wrist as though it was a soiled linen. He then proceeded to smooth his shirt before reaching for Shadowmere's reigns, the air of contempt thick about him. "Then you force my hand. Fine...We best be off to your Skingrad."

A part of me wanted to protest. Another part of me wanted to further argue. I knew something was amiss, as his words were intentionally unsettling. However, I decided to remain quiet as we again mounted his mare. Somehow, I made it out of a marriage proposal by Lucien Lachance unscathed. I did not want to press my luck. It was only when I looped my arms around his waist to ride did I truly feel the icy grip of fear as the assassin placed his hand over my own, turning some to fix me with a very chilling look and promise.

"Messy business, beloved...There will be consequences."

Author's Notes: Sorry this chapter isn't a million words long XD. I won't go into explaining myself again, I know I sound like a broken record! R&R, if it pleases, ya! I hope this update was worth the wait!